


Worthy of the Storm

by pan2fel



Series: Of Beasts And Men [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV, Final Fantasy XV: Kingsglaive
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Broken Bones, Canon-Typical Racism, Captivity, Concussions, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Self-Worth, Starvation, Torture, Whipping, Whump, nyxulricweek2018, whump what plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-03 01:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14557551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pan2fel/pseuds/pan2fel
Summary: Sequel toPetrichor, exploring Nyx's time in captivity.This is my contribution to Day 5 of theNyx Ulric Week 2018.---Caught in the clutches of the empire and cut off from everything that ever defined him, Nyx has to fight for his survival.





	Worthy of the Storm

"The fight was doomed from the beginning. I didn't even know what they were after...I mean, I do now. But the power they used was overwhelming..." Nyx trailed off, looking out the window, behind Drautos' desk. His eyes glazed over.

~~~

With an explosion of blue crystals, Nyx warped onto his next target. He felt like they had fought for days but the line between the two forces never wavered. More and more MTs were sent their way and he knew his fellow Glaives were tired. Hell, he was tired. 

He slashed through the legs of one of their daemons, rolling to his feet on the other side, just to push the oncoming MT away with a burst of electricity from his hands. 

It was a mess. 

He had lost sight of the others ages ago and their communication was rare at best, as everyone was fighting on their last leg. He was bleeding from several wounds, but there was no time to analyze how severe they truly were, no time to care either. 

His headset crackled as he spun around, eyes taking in the battlefield in front of them. They were ordered to regroup, and as he saw a Glaive go down his decision was made. The kukri flew across the distance, allowing Nyx to follow. He crashed into the creature, only barely making it in time, and they both went down, tumbling a few feet further. 

The creature came out on top, immediately attacking, without leaving him any space to breathe. His survival instincts were in overdrive and he could barely contain the rage of the coeurl inside. But, even though he was exhausted, he felt like he could do more with the refined power of the king's magic compared to the raw violence of his shift. The change alone would cost energy he didn't have to spare and he wasn't even thinking of the consequences a public shift might have. 

He kicked out and grappled for the upper hand and only barely managed to bury his weapon into the other’s neck. He twisted its head in his grip. The resounding crack reverberated through his bones and the lifeless creature fell against his body, pinning him to the ground. 

Nyx needed a moment to catch his breath before he even attempted to push it away. He groaned as his muscles strained against the weight, trying to wriggle out from under the creature. Something heavy fell down next to him and when he glanced to the side, the lifeless eyes of the Glaive he had just tried to rescue stared back at him. His adrenaline spiked and his attempt to free himself reached a desperate note. 

Instead of getting out, he suddenly lost his grip, the weight pushing back down on his chest worse than before, as if another force was pressing down on them together. His arms were pinned in an uncomfortable position, bending uselessly over his body. Panic rose in his chest as he tried to buck against the weight. 

"Nyx, where are you, man?" his radio crackled to life, but he was too occupied to even attempt to answer. 

Someone crouched down beside his head and before he could react his headset was ripped off and flung away. "No need for that where you are going," someone said.

The hand came back, gripping his hair tightly, pulling him off the ground. Nyx started to shift, throwing all caution to the wind and in the same moment the weight lifted off his chest. His head was pushed down again violently, stunning him momentarily and halting every attempt at shifting. He heard the sound of a clucking tongue over the roaring in his ears. 

"No, none of that," they said, and cold angst washed over Nyx as they lifted his head again, only to ram it against the ground once more. 

Tension left his body and even though the weight was gone, his limbs didn't cooperate fully. Electricity crackled between his fingers as he weakly tried to lift his hands in a futile attempt to defend himself. The grip in his hair was gone instantly, but a powerful kick to his ribs flung him a few feet away. 

Nyx tried to get to his feet, swaying dangerously to the side, as a MT suddenly gripped him from behind and forced him back down to his knees without mercy. He tried to bring his hands up, fire already blossoming on his palm, feet stemming against the ground, ready to turn around. His efforts were halted as foreign electricity jolted through him bringing him to the ground. 

The MT had let go, but there was no time to get his bearings as multiple enemies descended on him at once, pinning him to the ground, while his limbs still twitched in the aftermath of the charge. His head swam and black spots danced in front of his vision. He tried to shift again, but all it achieved was an overwhelming wave of dizziness. 

He groaned, blinking unfocused and weak at his attackers. They forced him around and wrestled his hands onto his back, sealing them there with an unmistakable snick of shackles. 

Nyx tried to buck against the force, receiving another kick to the ribs for his effort. He choked on a yell as he felt one crack, trying to roll away from the source of pain. His thoughts scattered and he lost focus, unable to summon his magic. 

He felt the coeurl in his chest yowl as he was hauled upright, his knees buckling immediately, while his vision blacked out for a moment. 

When he came back to himself, the MTs held him upright and the one from before stepped close again. His hands ruffled through his hair almost lovingly, but when Nyx spat blood into the man’s face, the grip tightened again, dragging his head back into an uncomfortable position. 

Nyx tried to kick out, compensating for the tension the pull had on his spine, but the man only laughed. "My, look at you, where do you get all that energy from," and he was backhanded again. 

His head flew to the side, the metal glove leaving a deep gash on his cheek and splitting his lip in the process. He groaned, blood dripping over his chin, as he strained against the cuffs. His breaths came in short gasps, the pain in his chest almost overwhelming and his vision swam in and out of focus. The MTs held tight. 

"So nice of you to cooperate," the man taunted. "Take him away, I guess we exhausted him enough with our play." 

They started to drag him away and the realization that they weren't going to kill him hit him like a bucket of cold water. 

"N..no!" he ground out, his struggles intensifying. 

For the first time since the ambush, his gaze scoured the field in search of help, but no one could be seen. Chaos still reigned the field and he realized that he was on his own. He strained against the grip weakly, planting his legs on the ground. Irritation flashed over the other’s face and he violently kicked Nyx's legs out from under him. 

The ensuing fall tore at his shoulders, arms still caught in the MT's hands and something ripped. A hoarse yell tore from his throat as he desperately tried to get his feet back under him, relieving the pressure of the dislocated shoulder. He choked on the pain, gagging against the nausea clouding his mind as they kept dragging him away. 

His struggles died down after that, the roaring in his head overshadowing every other sensation. All he could do was stumble along, his legs buckling under exhaustion, but the immediate pain in his shoulder was so overwhelming that he struggled to his feet again every time. He didn't know where they were taking him or why, but his body wouldn't cooperate anymore. 

He was flung onto hard metal ground and felt the distinct hum of heavy machinery beneath his body. Something clicked around his throat, the ensuing sensation so overwhelming that Nyx blacked out.

\----

Consciousness returned slowly. He first smelled the dank, humid air of the room. He was floating, his focus going in and out, while the sensation clogged his nose. The next thing he became aware of was the cold seeping through his uniform, right down to his bones, and the hard floor he was lying on. It was uncomfortable, but when he started to move, pain blossomed all over his body. 

His eyelids fluttered open as memories returned, and he was only barely able to contain a groan. Instead he breathed heavily through his nose against the pain. Something didn’t feel right. Something was missing, as if it had been ripped from his grasp. His chest felt tight with loss and panic was brimming under the surface.

He opened his eyes and squinted through the dimly lit room. The only light source being a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling and a small window. He was alone, his hands still trapped in the cuffs behind his back. He swallowed thickly, remembering his moment of defeat. Nobody had been there to stop it. He didn’t even know if the battle had stopped afterwards, if he was casualty or goal. 

He hoped the others had made it out alive, not wasting their time looking for him. 

The frantic call for his whereabouts echoed through his mind and he gritted his teeth against the onslaught of emotions. The thought of anyone dying because of him was unbearable. He shook the feeling off, focusing instead on the cuffs in his back, his surroundings and the overwhelming feeling of loss, that was still gripping tightly. The cell didn't offer much of an answer, it was bare and small, containing nothing else than a toilet behind a small cubicle.

He rolled carefully to his knees, trying not to jostle his shoulder too much. It still screamed in agony, making him pause, leaning his forehead against the cool concrete floor, doing nothing but breathing for the moment. 

His ribs protested the position just as much so he struggled to his feet quickly, almost going down again when dark spots filled his vision. He carefully leaned against the wall for support, breathing away the dizziness. He inspected the cell more closely. But even the secondary glance didn't wield anything helpful. There was a ring on the wall and on the floor, nothing that would help him escape. After another round across the room and another, he gave up. It was time to look for more drastic measures. 

He tried to concentrate on the king's magic, calling it to him, but the connection felt frayed and brittle, escaping his focus whenever he tried to grasp it. Nyx blinked in confusion and then it hit him out of the blue. 

The connection to his coeurl was gone. 

The world fell away. It was ripped from his hands and Nyx felt like he was losing the ground below his feet. He was gasping but no air was filling his lungs, as he frantically tried to get back what had been cut off. A whine escaped him, as he stumbled back into the wall, slowly sliding down, staring into space. 

It was gone. 

His heart pounded loudly in his chest, as he agitatedly tried to call it to him. The shift had been part of him for so long, felt so natural, always part of him, that he was reeling at the feeling of loss. What had happened? Why couldn’t he even feel it anymore? Did the storm deem him unworthy? Did it take away his blessing because he wasn’t able to protect those he had been sworn to help? Dread started to fill him and with nothing but raw walls and darkness surrounding him, there was nothing keeping it away.

Time went by and if the small window was any indication, he had been alone for hours when the doors finally opened. Two MTs marched into the cell, pointing their weapons at him, while another strode in seemingly uncaring. 

Nyx stayed seated, trying his best to appear unimpressed. It was the one from the battlefield, the one that had captured him. Nyx didn't react outwardly, couldn’t show them how off balance he felt. His jaws were clenched and his hands balled to fists behind him, his whole posture stiff.

"Aww, look at you, all rested and defiant. I expected nothing less of the great hero!" The man clapped his hands, smiling deviously for a second, before his smile vanished. "Get him up."

Nyx let himself be pulled up, blinking against the shooting pain in his protesting shoulder and gritted his teeth. The other stepped closer, forming a surprised, but silent o with his lips.

"Did nobody give you medical treatment since you arrived? How rude." he snapped his fingers and suddenly Nyx was pressed against the wall, his arms gripped tightly, as the MTs pushed his shoulder back into its socket merciless, not caring about the fact that it had had hours to swell and stiffen. 

His knees buckled, his vision whitened out and the scream that tore out of Nyx's throat was animalistic. It ended in a hoarse sob. He wished it was the coeurl coming to the forefront, roaring with him and lending him its strength, instead of pain pushing him to his limits. Again he felt hands push through his hair, as he blinked away tears.

"That right there," the other whispered in his ear, "that was great. We'll do that again later." 

Nyx bared his teeth, as the other playfully flicked at the collar and then understanding dawned on Nyx. Panic rose in his chest, and he met the others curious gaze with shock widened eyes. 

"Yeah, nifty little trick, isn't it?," he smirked and ruffled Nyx's hair, pulling on a braid threateningly. Nyx had to follow the movement, bending uncomfortably, reeling from the sensation of loss. 

"What have you done?" he growled, straining against the chains, white, hot anger replacing the fear for a moment. He strained against the hold, bucking violently, but without success. 

He hadn’t lost the blessing after all, someone had artificially ripped it out of his chest. 

"Time for some uninterrupted chit chat," the other laughed and turned around to leave the room. 

Nyx felt loss and rage and incomprehension at what had just happened. He tried to shift again out of instinct, but only ran into a hard, mental wall. He struggled against the MTs dragging him along.

When they reached their destination, he was shoved down into a chair, his arms and legs bound to it under great force. He threw them an angry look and the one from before, leaning against a table, just smiled. 

"Okay, shall we start with something small and easy, I heard that's the way to go."

Their eyes met and Nyx knew this would be neither. He had been able to quell the panic for the moment, concentrating on the here and now, instead of risking to miss his opportunity to strike. He tensed his shoulders, balled his hands to fists, straining against the bonds keeping him in place. They didn't budge.

"So, tell me about the inner workings of your precious city." 

Nyx blinked, surprised by the blunt question, before he started to laugh. It reverberated through his ribs and head, throbbing painfully. A punch to his face made his head snap to the side, reopening the cuts from before. He spit out the blood, his head hanging low, before he dragged it back up, meeting the others eyes again. He wouldn't give in.

"Still too complicated?" The other walked around the chair, coming to a halt at his back. 

Nyx tensed, uncomfortable with the threat behind him, but half expecting it, when his hair got grabbed again. The other held him in a vice grip, pulling his head back so Nyx had to stare up, spine arched uncomfortably. 

"What about Galahd, do you miss it? You must be very unhappy with the way the war is going." 

Nyx didn't react, as the other dragged his hand down one of his braids. Beads clattered to the ground, rolling away, lost, just as his beast. His heart started to hammer in his chest, his jaws clenched.

"There aren't many left of you, right? Galahdians, I mean, and even fewer beasts. Can they acquire it so far from home? Or are you a dying species?" He came to the front again, watching Nyx curiously. 

Nyx didn't know where he had got the information from, but he clearly hadn't cared to understand the intrinsic workings of their culture. 

"And still you don't do anything to save the ones that refused to take refuge. Do you even know if there are any left? We got them pretty good on that day. You know, the one where you lost your sister?" 

Nyx's mind immediately conjured the memory of her last moments, the yell echoing through his mind, striking his chest with grief. He bared his teeth in an animalistic snarl, fighting against the bonds even more, tempted to just bite whatever body part was within reach. 

It made the other laugh and step back. And while Nyx knew that this had been a mistake, relief washed over him at the realization that this was the coeurl's doing. It wasn't gone, it was fighting. The relief was so overwhelming that he felt nauseous. 

"I see," the other said, stepping close again, watching him intently, before returning to the table, lifting something up. "You sure you don't want to talk about some unimportant details?" 

He turned around, watching Nyx's stoic expression. 

"No? What a shame. Then what about showing me how a son of the storm can still be struck by lightning?" He pressed the long device against Nyx's chest, flicked it on and set his nerves on fire. 

Electricity pulsed through Nyx as he convulsed in the chair, his muscles locked and his thoughts scattered. When it stopped he had barely enough time to draw a wheezing breath, before there was another jolt and Nyx’s world shattered again. 

There were no questions for some time, only pain. It became harder and harder with each jolt to regain his focus. His muscles burned and twitched with aftershocks, while his breath came in labored gasps. The only good thing about it was the strengthening connection to his coeurl. 

After the initial numbness, he had come to the conclusion that it had only been suppressed somehow. He could feel it rattle against the cage it was put in, he felt the impenetrable wall that separated them, but it was there and it was angry. 

Nyx took comfort in that knowledge. And even though the electro shocks put him down again and again, making it harder to lift his head each time, they pulled the coeurl closer, drew it in again. His tormentor had got that right, he was a son of the storm and electricity was part of them, connecting them on a deeper level.

Nyx heaved for breath, his head hanging low on his chest, shoulders slumped against the bindings and it took him a few moments to realize that no new shock was coming. He tried to lift his head but only managed a small turn, blinking against his blurred vision. A hand cupped his chin softly, lifting his head up.

"Now that we got to know each other a little bit better, tell me how the crystal is protected." 

"You're insane if you think I am betraying my people," Nyx growled weakly.

"Ah, but they are not your people. Isn't that right? You sacrificed so much for them, fighting their war and they treat you like some dirty immigrant." 

Nyx didn't react, didn't even attempt to pull his head away. 

"Nobody is coming for you, because you're just not worth it,” the man continued, “Keep that in mind while you defend the honor of some king who doesn't care enough about you or your people." 

The hand vanished and Nyx tried to keep his head up, he really tried, but he couldn't. He heard the distinct stomp of footsteps and felt armored hands on his arms and legs. He didn't struggle this time when they fastened his hands behind his back again and he didn't help when they dragged him back to his cell, where they pushed him in carelessly, after opening the cuffs again.

He stumbled a few steps, before his legs gave out and he hit the floor with a painful thud. His vision swam, his body protesting the abuse. 

He gave himself time to catch his breath, time for the dark spots to vanish from his vision. The words echoing through his head. Nobody was coming for him. 

He knew that. Why should they go after one single Glaive, there were more important things to take care of, especially since he was sure nobody knew he was still alive. They would think the hero had finally taken his last risk and died on the battlefield, anonymous between friend and foe. 

His chest clenched painfully at that thought. Nobody would come, there was no use in waiting, he had to get out himself or die trying. What he wouldn't do, however, was betray them just to barter for his inconsequential life.

Nyx didn't know if it had been days or weeks. It was hard to keep track when one spent half the time unconscious in a cell with only a small connection to the outside world. He was aware that the longer he waited, the less likely it would be for him to escape, due to the simple fact that his strength was waning. His clothes were in tatters and he didn't know if there was a part of his body that didn't hurt. 

The questions hadn't changed and Nyx felt their frustration growing. Sometimes they left him alone for long stretches of time, starving him, in hopes of making him more compliant. He hadn't lost hope just yet. He still felt weirdly detached from his inner core, from his connection to his coeurl and from his magic. 

He felt like sitting side by side, hands meeting paws on a transparent surface, without being able to touch, to connect, to embrace. It made him feel lonely and incomplete and the longer it took him to find an opening, the stronger he felt like he had lost the most important parts of him, leaving behind the worthless shell of his human body. 

Ever since that first time he woke up, they had started to take his cuffs off whenever he was alone in his cell. He had tried to take the collar off many times, sure that it was the reason for the solid wall inside his head. All he had ever achieved was a raw irritated throat with angry marks on his skin and the amused chuckle of his tormentor.

\---

The opportunity he was waiting for never presented itself and he knew that he was running out of time to act. But instead of losing hope, it just made him reckless.When they sent only one MT to get him, thinking he was too weak to try anything, he proved them wrong. 

When the first cuff clicked around his wrist,his adrenaline was spiking, his nerves were on fire and he just acted. Before the MT could fasten the second one, he drove his good shoulder into the other’s chest and threw it off balance. 

Nyx wriggled one of his hands out of the cuff, the other side dangling uselessly around his wrist. Without much thought he grabbed it tightly, using it as a weapon and smashing it into the MT's face. It wasn't one of the fancy combat models, and even though Nyx was weak, desperation gave him strength. 

He ripped and pushed and pulled with his bare hands, trying to subdue it enough until he could find its weak spot. His fingers bruised and bled, hitting sharp, metal edges, but he didn't stop. The MT retaliated, hitting him where it knew it would hurt. 

Nyx almost didn’t make it, but he gave it all he got and suddenly he had ripped its arm off. He watched dumbfounded as the machinery stuttered and died. 

The triumph was short lived, however. 

When he looked up he was staring down the barrel of another MT’s firearm pointed at his face. All feelings of victory left his body and dread settled into the pit of his stomach. 

Fuck. He slowly raised his arms, the one he ripped off the MT still clutched in his hand. But really, what did he have to lose?

He slammed the arm against the MT, trying to move swiftly and taking it by surprise just as its companion. 

The shot that went off made him flinch, but he had no time to think about the ringing in his ears. He threw the arm in its face and grabbed for the rifle, wrestling with the MT, refusing to give in. The butt of it hit his head, and darkness crept around the edges of his vision. 

Nyx growled and suddenly there were more hands on him, subduing him, pushing him against the ground and grabbing his arms painfully tight. He was cuffed again. The MT seemed angry about what had just happened, tightening the bonds more than usual. 

They hauled him upright and started pushing him along roughly, without letting him catch his footing when he stumbled. They didn't take him to the same room, but instead they took him outside for the first time since he had been imprisoned. 

He paused, squinting against the daylight. He took a shuddering breath. Was this how it would end? Was this the day they finally executed him, frustrated with the lack of information he had been willing to part from? 

The court was a big, open space, surrounded by several buildings. MTs were assembled, forming a tight circle around the set-up in the middle. 

Nyx let himself be pulled into a big cage and looked around in confusion, dreading what was to come. When his gaze fell on the cross-shaped contraption in the middle of the cage he started to resist, planting his feet on the ground, trying to get away. He didn't want to die. 

The MT pulling him along was relentless, slamming him against the contraption without mercy. They started to tie him to it, arms outstretched, back exposed. A shiver went through him. This was not a good way to go.

His tormentor laughed, while they strapped him down, listening to the MT giving its report to him. He let his gaze glide over Nyx, lingering on the obvious bruises on his face, the slowly healing cuts and the exhaustion behind his eyes. 

"You know, that was really foolish of you. What were you thinking? Just walking out of a base full of troopers?" He chuckled, his fingers softly wandering over Nyx's wrist and arm, up to his shoulder. A shiver went through Nyx’s body. Out of sight, the man said, "you, over there, give me that."  

Nyx tensed. 

"Really, Nyx, no snarky answer for me today?" Things clinked in the background, making him flinch, his heart was racing, ready to jump out of his skin and every muscle in his body was tense. He couldn't see what was happening and it made him nervous. 

"I am not going to allow that," he sounded labored, as if he was lifting things around. "Ripping the arm off of a poor MT, what were you thinking, Nyx?" He asked again and then suddenly brought the handle of a rifle down on his wrist. 

The crack filled the whole court and pain exploded through his whole body. Nyx choked on the scream, raw in his throat, almost like the angry roar of his coeurl. His muscles tensed and he was instinctively tearing at his bonds, only making it worse. He tried to breathe through the pain, grunting and keening deep in his throat while he bit down on his lip. Nyx threw his head back, eyes closed and jaw clenched, groaning. 

"An arm for an arm, I guess," the other said, and brought the rifle down once more.

His eyes flew open and he screamed, broken and hoarse against his torment, before falling back into the restraints as if his strings had been cut loose. He blinked against the dark spots in his vision, breathing in short gasps. 

He rolled his head to the side, meeting the others eyes unfocused. He was so tired of this. Sweat was beading on his forehead. 

"So now you know why ripping off arms is foolish," he said, while walking his fingers over Nyx's arm, purposefully pressing down harder on the break, eliciting a whimper, chuckling when Nyx rolled his head from side to side restless, struggling against the instinct to squirm in his bonds.

The other booped his nose and Nyx wished he could have just thrown up there and then. Maybe it wasn't such a bad way to go. At least the sun was shining.

"You know, I think we reached some kind of impasse, my friend." 

Nyx didn't look up, still breathing hard, his features pale. 

"And while talking to you is always enjoyable, I think it's time we appealed to some of your more primal instincts, don't you think?" 

Nyx's heart sank. The other vanished out of his sight, returning on the other side of the cage, watching him with a smirk.

Hands were suddenly on his neck, making him flinch and then the collar he had so desperately tried to get rid of vanished, falling carelessly to the ground. 

Nyx blinked. The world rushed back, his senses overwhelmed for a moment, as the coeurl's mind brushed against him, greeting him in anger and urgency. Nyx had a hard time containing the rage in his chest, keeping the coeurl at bay, when all he had wanted for the last weeks, was now within reach. How good it would feel to rip that smug grin off his tormentor's face, how good to just roar with the storm, even though the sun was shining. 

Nyx body tensed, the earlier words echoing through his mind. They wanted him to shift. That's what the cage was for, that was why the unimportant MT was standing behind him and not the nameless one. His head shot up, realization clear in his features as he met the other's eyes. There would be no execution today and Nyx didn't know if it was relief or desperation filling his veins. They both knew he was at the end of his rope.

Something cracked behind him, eliciting another involuntary flinch from him. His defenses were wearing thin, his resolution brittle at this point. Nyx didn't know how far he could still go, but based on the other's words, he would have to fight his instincts for a little while longer. 

He swallowed thickly and then the air was pressed out of his lungs, followed by a sharp pain racing across his back, only dulled by the fact that he was still wearing his uniform. A groan escaped him and he managed a shallow breath, before the force knocked it out of him again. 

The coeurl in his chest was furious. It pushed against his mind, against his boundaries and better knowledge, trying to force the shift. It had been trapped for so long it wanted to maim and to pounce and to rip apart those who had hurt them. Nyx knew, at this point, that the coeurl had better chances at escape than he did, but the trap was so obvious, it almost made him laugh. 

The whip cracked again and he felt fabric rip. The pain made him scream in agony and his face was suddenly wet with tears, forgotten was the laugh. His energy to fight was bleeding out of him. The instinct to protect, the primal knowledge that he would be strong enough to break the bonds even though his bones were broken, was almost overwhelming. 

His breath was erratic, whimpers falling from his lips with each crack. 

He couldn't give in. 

Their claws were burying into the contraption, while Nyx still fought against the sensations assaulting him. A sob tore out of his throat at the desperation engulfing him. It would be so easy to just give up, to take a step back and watch from the sidelines. 

Dread filled him as he met the tormentors eyes. They both knew he would lose and then they were pouncing. 

The wooden contraption splintered, a roar filling the air and the arm of the MT flew out of the cage, whip still attached. 

It wasn't enough. They ripped it apart until nothing was left and then they threw themselves against the cage, bending metal under their force, the pain forgotten in their rage. Those standing within their reach were ripped apart and their teeth were bared as they tried to open the cage with blunt force. 

Blood was running down their back and they snarled viciously, electricity crackling over the court. 

A loud bang distracted them and before they could react a heavy net, crackling with electricity, was engulfing them, pushing them to the ground. They whined and pushed, scrabbling against the net, but the pain didn't let up. 

Feet appeared in their line of vision and they growled deeply, trying to discharge electricity only to feel their own force being directed back at them. They yowled in pain, struggling, leaving deep gouges in the ground. 

A collar clicked around their throat, tight and entrapping and suddenly Nyx fell away. His thoughts scattered and the world fell apart in a completely different way. Numbness engulfed him. The beast snarled, looking angrily back. It felt shattered and incomplete and all that was left was rage. Their sensations blended together, reduced to the barest instincts, cut off from each other. 

Nyx struggled against the darkness, tried getting close again, feeling the abuse his shift went through. They bled and broke, taking abuse more vicious now that they were shifted and while their strength was weaning, they felt themselves detaching more and more. The coeurl took over almost completely, losing its human connection, trying to survive for both of them, the only way it knew how. 

It wasn't sure what they tried to achieve, but it felt irritated and alone, only subconsciously aware of connections still grounding it. Pain and rage filling most of their days. 

They powered through and suddenly they were alone. Chained to the wall in their cell, while the sounds around them died down. Silence and hunger replaced the pain and rage. The tried to fight the chains, using all the power they had left to rip it out of the wall, the pain in their neck barely registering anymore. 

Defeat and numbness slowly replaced everything else, until one day the faint sound of footsteps chased away the darkness. Their ears twitched and they watched the door.

~~~

"--Nyx?"

"Yeah, sorry, I got distracted there for a moment." Nyx smiled self-deprecating. "They wanted information about the city, but when I didn't give it up, they tried to convince my other half to switch sides. I doubt they ever understood what the shift means." They watched each other in silence for long moments, understanding growing between them. They both weren't new to war and they both had seen its chasms.

"You don't have to get back to duty just yet, you know that, right?"

"As long as I've got strength in my body, Sir…." He trailed off, but there was no need to finish this particular sentence.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Jo and Brandi for all your input. I appreciate this so much!  
> Come find me on [tumblr](https://whumpershaven.tumblr.com) to chat.


End file.
